


it's for charity

by cold_nights_summer_days



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Awesome May Parker (Spider-Man), Crack Fic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Iron Man to the rescue, Peter Parker-centric, Precious Peter Parker, Teasing, and even though its not relevant, i wrote this at midnight instead of sleeping, infinity war and endgame dont take place in this universe, no beta we die like men, the tags are bad but i promise the story is better, this takes place sometime after homecoming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:20:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23528275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cold_nights_summer_days/pseuds/cold_nights_summer_days
Summary: Based on the tumblr post by spder-ling-archived:One day, while clearing out his closet at May's request so they could fill a box of old stuff and take it down to charity, Peter finds his plastic Iron Man mask and gauntlets. He hesitates for half a second before slipping both on and proceeding to spend the next half an hour skidding around on his socks and pretending to shoot at and take down bad guys.I changed the prompt a little bit, but I hope you still like it :)
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 29
Kudos: 162





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! Quarantine screwed up my entire schedule (i thought monday was saturday, and I'm now up until 2 am every day), but that's why I wrote this at 1 am XD. I hope you guys are staying safe and enjoy this little one-shot, which may or may not get a bonus chapter depending on how this lands :)
> 
> Scream with me on [Tumblr!](https://funky--lil--spider.tumblr.com/)

Saturdays were supposed to be relaxing. Saturdays were supposed to be the day one got to sleep in. Saturdays were supposed to be the days one got to catch up on things they’d wanted to do during the week. Saturdays were not supposed to be the days you were woken up by your aunt at seven am sharp. Saturdays were not supposed to be the days when your warm blanket was brutally ripped away from you, exposing you to the harsh elements of a cold room. Saturdays were not supposed to be the days your aunt forced you to clean out your closet.

And yet, that was exactly what Peter Parker’s Saturday was. Peter groaned when May ripped off his comforter and shivered. She spared him no sympathy as she ripped open the curtains, the early spring sun flooding the room. Peter opened his eyes long enough to look at the clock.

“May, what are you doing in here?” He complained, pulling one of his many pillows over his head. His next words were muffled. “It’s barely seven.”

“Really? Hadn’t noticed,” She replied sarcastically. “The charity drive is today, remember? I told you to get this stuff ready two weeks ago. If you’d done it then, I wouldn’t have woken you up so early.”

“Do I have to?”

“Yes,” May laughed. She moved back over to the Peter’s bed and stole the pillow. Peter glared at her the best he could without being fully awake, and she laughed again. When Peter moved to grab the next nearest pillow, she held hers high over her head and threatened to hit him with it. Peter decided not to argue even though he knew he could totally win a pillow fight with ease. It was the principle of the thing, you know?

May didn’t leave until Peter had actually gotten out of bed. There were a few too many times she’d trusted him to get up on his own, and he was late to school each of those times. A few minutes after Peter had gotten dressed, May came back in with a large cardboard box. Peter sighed.

“Do I have to fill the whole thing?”

“Not all of it, but most of it. I know for a fact you haven’t cleaned out the top shelf of your closet in at least two years.”

“Way to call me out, May. I really feel the love,” Peter deadpanned. May gave him one last mischievous smile before leaving the room again. Peter heard her turn on the tv in the living room and grumbled. He knew she was right; he totally should have done this two weeks ago. To be fair, it wasn’t that he was being lazy. He was busy with homework and Spider-Man and spending time with Tony . . . and he didn’t want to do it. The top shelf was where he kept his childhood stuff. Stuff that his parents had given him, stuff that Ben had given him. It felt wrong to keep them tucked away, but after Ben passed, it was just so hard to look at them. Movie tickets, old puzzles they’d done together, birthday gifts.

Peter took a deep breath and pulled his desk chair over to the closet. Careful not to slip, he pulled down the first box easily. Dust swirled through the air and Peter sneezed. The chair wobbled, and he almost fell. He cursed.

Peter set the box down on the floor carefully and opened it. There didn’t seem to be stuff of much value in it, aside from some old school projects and competition medals. Peter didn’t even remember winning half of them and wondered if May was the one to put them in the box. She was always on about saving memories and stuff like that because, “One day, Peter, you’ll be glad you still have it.”

The next box had some old blankets and sweatshirts in it, most of them probably from middle-school. Peter tossed them into the charity box without a second thought, not even bothering to see if they’d still fit. They probably would have fit—they used to get things a size up so there was room to grow—but he didn’t want them. Who wanted to be reminded of crappy days in middle school, where the food was disgusting, classes boring, and bullies unimaginative?

Peter went through two more shoeboxes of stuff before opening his first “Ben” box. He contemplated putting it back before it brought back the memories, but something inside caught his eye. It was a snow globe that Ben had gotten him the first Christmas after his parents died.

_“Mary always loved these,”_ He’s said, handing it to Peter on Christmas morning. It had been almost too big for him to hold at the time. Inside was a standard log cabin and Christmas tree covered in white. Peter shook it, mesmerized as he watched the “snowflakes” fall. He remembered shaking it for hours that day, completely and totally entertained by the snow. He’d pretended that they were there, in the impeccably decorated cabin and playing in the white snow. It was more appealing than the grey slush outside their Queens apartment.

Peter set the snow globe on the floor next to him and reached for the next thing in the box. Next was the ticket stubs from the Stark Expo they’d gone to all those years ago. There was a map in the box, too. Peter had been so excited about everything that day that not even almost getting killed by a drone could pull him down from cloud nine.

He dug around in the box for a minute before finding the other thing he knew must have been in there; the helmet and gloves he’d been wearing that day. May and Ben had gotten them for Peter as part of the surprise, and Peter refused to take them off for weeks afterward. He’d thought they were real.

_Oh, how embarrassing it would be if Tony knew I had this,_ Peter thought Curious as to whether he could still wear it or not, Peter slipped on the helmet and the gloves. Surprisingly, they still fit, though not without a bit of wiggling. As if on cue, May walked in.

“I just came to check on you and see what you wanted to . . .” She said, trailing off at the sight. “ _Those still fit you?_ ” She asked incredulously.

“Apparently,” Peter answered, his voice echoing inside the helmet. May laughed and reached for the phone in her back pocket. Peter jumped up instantly. 

“You can’t!” He held his arms held up to block the view of the camera.

“Oh, I can to,” She said, and Peter watched helplessly as she pressed the button. He darted out of the room and into the living room. After he ducked around the corner and hid behind the couch, Peter tried to pull the helmet off. Even muffled by the helmet, he could hear May following him in here and laughing all the way.

“Shit, I can’t get it off!” Peter squeaked, tugging at the helmet uselessly. Just then, May poked her head around the couch, phone still up. Peter was off the floor and in the kitchen in a split second. “It’s stuck!”

Peter stopped pulling at the helmet just long enough to glare at May for laughing, even though she couldn’t see him. Embarrassment flashed hot in his brain when he realized she was taking a video, not a photo.

“May!” He pleaded, stomping his foot on the floor childishly. She laughed harder. “It won’t come off, what if I’m stuck like this forever?”

“You won’t be stuck like this forever, I’m sure Tony wouldn’t mind helping you take it off,” May said playfully. Peter ran back into his room and slammed the door shut. He leaned against it and slid down to the floor.

“No! And you cannot send that video to him!”

“Ah come on, Peter, why not?” May asked, voice muffled through the door. Peter said his next words as if they were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Because, it’s embarrassing.”

“It’s endearing.” She countered.

“It’s embarrassing.”

“We’ll agree to disagree, but I’m pretty sure Tony will agree with me."

“That’s what makes it embarrassing!"

“Well, its too late. I already sent it. And he’ll be here in twenty minutes to get the helmet unstuck.” May said finally. Peter listened as her footsteps faded down the hallway. He groaned and banged his head on the door behind him. He was so going to get her back for this.


	2. Bonus Chapter!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iron Man to the rescue!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the love on the last chapter! I couldn't not write this part, so here it is!

If you told Tony Stark that he’d be walking into the Parker’s apartment Saturday morning because Peter had gotten a plastic Iron Man helmet stuck on his head, he would have laughed his ass off. Not because it was something Peter would never do, but because it was something that Peter totally would do. Even so, that didn’t mean that he’d expected it. So when May sent him a video of Peter frantically trying—and failing—to get the stupid thing off his head while running around the apartment, he laughed so hard that it was ten minutes before he had any self-control again.

The drive over was definitely an event, too. There was so much traffic through Queens that he’d started to wish he had just flown instead (which, arguably, might have been even more embarrassing for Peter. Come to think of it, Tony totally should have just flown over.) Not to mention the fact that he could only go three or four minutes before bursting out laughing again.

God damn, it was just so funny. For being a genius, Peter still did some rather stupid stuff. There once was a time when Peter accidentally stuck himself to a wall with his own webs . . . that one had been a trip, too. Tony had to fly out to the random building Peter had managed to stick himself too and use some of the web dissolvent they’d created. (Peter was supposed to have some, too, but he forgot to reload the cartridge before heading out that night).

So, Tony guessed one could say Peter had a habit of getting himself stuck. But really, a plastic helmet? Thank god the Parkers didn’t have stairs, because Tony might be worried that he’d get stuck in those as well.

Twenty-five minutes after leaving the tower, Tony found himself standing in May and Peter’s living room. He didn’t feel awkward there anymore like he had the first time. In fact, being there felt comfortable now. Every so often they had dinner there, or watched a movie. They’d had a game night once, but things got so competitive a neighbor knocked on the door and told them to quiet down . . . suffice to say, they hadn’t played Monopoly together since then.

“Where’s he at?” Tony asked May, who was sitting on the couch with a novel in hand. She pointed down the hall. Tony could hear Peter struggling to pull off the helmet, even from out here. He walked down the hall slowly, trying to force himself not to laugh. He didn’t want Peter to feel any more embarrassed about the whole thing than he probably already did.

Tony knocked lightly before trying to open the door and finding it locked. He tried the handle again before Peter cracked the door and peeked his head around. It took every ounce of Tony’s self-control not to laugh at the poor kid. He reminded himself that he could do that later . . . _after_ they solved the newest clusterfuck in a long line of clusterfucks.

“Oh my god,” Tony mumbled, hand covering his mouth in an attempt to hide the smile. He’d seen the video, and May had said it was cute, but the in-person experience was on a whole new level. He’d known Peter had been a fan when he was younger, but wow. _Wow._

“Can I come in?” He asked Peter, who had still only opened the door wide enough to look through. Peter simply stared at him for a moment before answering.

“Only if you promise not to laugh,” Peter said. Tony nodded and promised, albeit very unconvincingly, not to laugh anymore. He broke the promise as soon as Peter opened the door, and he could feel the glare from the kid even though he couldn’t see it.

“So, uh, how’d you get the helmet stuck?”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“And what’s the mess for?” Tony questioned, gesturing to the boxes of stuff strewn about the floor. Peter told him it was for charity, explained that May had woken him up way too early this morning and forced him to clean out the top shelf of his closet and find stuff to donate. He also explained that in the process of said cleaning, he found the mask from the expo (expo? He went to the expo?!) and was curious as to whether it still fit.

“And then right after I put it on May came in and started taking a video so I tried to run away but I couldn’t get the helmet off and she chased me into the kitchen and I ran into the counter and—”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Tony said. _And I totally saw all of that in the video, anyway._ He started messing with buttons on his watch, and Peter’s eyes went wide underneath the helmet when he realized what was going on. 

“No, you can’t do that!” He shouted. And then, “May, Tony’s trying to kill me!”

“I am not trying to kill you, I’m trying to help you—”

“What’s this about you trying to kill Peter?” May asked, walking into the room. She almost made the two pose for a picture. Almost. And for the record, if she had, it would have totally gone up on the fridge. 

“I am not trying to kill him. He’s just being dramatic.”

“Am not—”

“So, you want to keep that thing stuck on your head, then?”

Peter shook his head, and even though Tony couldn’t see his face, he just knew the kid was glaring at him. Whatever, he wasn’t the one stuck in a plastic Iron Man helmet. Not to mention the fake gauntlets Peter still had on.

This time when Tony started pressing buttons on his watch, Peter stayed quiet. May stood in the doorway as if the pair of them required supervision (they totally did, but they wouldn’t admit that out loud.). Tony switched on the laser, and May’s eyes went wide.

“Oh my god, you are actually trying to kill him.” Tony looked between the both of them and had the sudden urge to bang his head into a wall.

“I am not trying to kill him! This is a low-level laser that I designed specifically for this type of situation. After a few incidents with malfunctioning armor, I figured it might be nice. Now if the both of you could kindly hush for a minute while I do this, that would be absolutely fantastic.”

Peter mumbled a quick sorry before Tony (finally) got to work. Barely three minutes later, the helmet was off, and Peter was finally free. May went back to the living room now that the crisis seemed to be averted, and Peter was looking at the helmet sadly, which was now sitting on his desk in two pieces.

“I can fix that for you,” Tony offered, noticing Peter’s sudden change in mood. He thought the kid might be more embarrassed now that the whole thing was over, but he just seemed upset.

“You don’t have to,” Peter said quickly. “It’s stupid anyway. I just—Ben got it for me when we went to the expo together. It just kind of sucks that its broken.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll fix it up today and bring it over later tonight.”

“You really don’t have to. It’s not a big deal, Tony. I already took up enough of your time, and I’m sure you’re busy anyways . . .” Peter trailed off, looking down at the floor. Tony took a deep breath before talking again. Even now, this was one of the things they were still working on. It didn’t matter how many times Tony tried to explain it, Peter always assumed Tony had more important things to do.

“I’m free as a bird today, so don’t sweat it. And kiddo, you know that even if I did have something to do today, it’s not more important than helping you if you need it.”

Peter nodded, and even still, Tony was pretty sure they’d be having this conversation many more times over before it really sunk in. He just hoped it wouldn’t take as long as convincing Peter to call him Tony.

“So, do you have anything you have to do today?” Tony asked, trying to lighten the mood. Emotions still weren’t his favorite thing in the world.

“No. Why?”

“Because I thought you might like to help me fix the helmet. And maybe you can try out the real deal.”

Peter’s eyes went wide. “Really? Or are you just making fun of me for getting my head stuck?”

“A little bit of both.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
